


I Can Only Think About Your Hands

by zeitgeist77



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Author Projecting onto Eddie Kaspbrak, F/F, Fixation, Hands, I said underage and yes they are but it's 15/16 and this is based off of events so, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, Voyeurism, femreddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25174768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeitgeist77/pseuds/zeitgeist77
Summary: Y'all ever been obsessed with someone's hands?FemReddieRachel-RichieEmma-EddieYou'll appreciate Sonia in this one (for not being in it)
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 65





	I Can Only Think About Your Hands

Emma knew what anxiety was. She’d grown up anxious, she was raised to have her nerves wracked every time the clock struck 12 pm and she hadn’t taken her afternoon pills that day. Over time, she’d trained herself to settle down when the hours ticked by and she hadn’t swallowed a handful of tablets and supplements.

  
Still, her heartbeat rapidly in her chest as she stared vacantly at the table, unable to shift her eyes around or fake like she’d just been thinking for a second. All she could think about was her breathing and her heart rate as her mind was overwhelmed with the image of Rachel’s hands wrapped around the ukelele that she’d found in her closet from middle school and brought to one of their Loser Cub meetings. They’d retired their little bunker in the woods since most of the Losers had grown to be nearly six-foot-tall. Mike, Bill, and Ben had all maxed out at 6’1 and each played baseball for Derry High. Stan fell right below them at six feet even but remained thin with slim muscles wrapping like ribbons around his bones. Rachel, the lanky rag doll she was, sat right under Stan at 5’11 and a half. She had the figure of a rectangle and no assets to show off. Beverly had hit a modest 5’6 and wore it well. Emma was the smallest at 5’2. She was proud of her figure even if her height was unimpressive. She’d joined the track team as a freshman to get out of the house for the afternoons and it had given her (as Rachel generously put it) a fat ass and thighs to match. As they laid back in the Hanscom shack, an addition to his home that was greatly appreciated, Emma couldn’t help but feel her body go wonky at the feeling returning to her nerves. She was doing everything she could to wake up her body so that she could look at something else, but Rachel’s hands had her in a trance.

  
“We all remember ‘Riptide’, right?” Rachel asked, getting a few groans and one pillow to the head from Beverly. She had her left hand was wrapped around the neck of the small instrument so lazily, her pointer and middle finger draped away from the ring and pinky finger holding onto the lower strings of the uke. Her right fingers grazed over the strings over the face of the ukelele. Occasionally, she would pluck the strings carefully and let the vibrations play out on her fingers. When her fingers got indentions from the strings, she would pull her fingers away and rub them together lightly, sometimes bringing her thumb up to her mouth to bite at the nail, then pulling it away quickly before she caused any damage. This sent a flood through Emma, a sort of warm panic that screamed ‘she does that for you! She does that because you told her that biting her nails is bad for her. You said she’d get appendicitis and that her appendix would rupture and she would die from all of those icky murderous toxins in her body’ which made her hyperventilate to think about because now she was thinking about disease and sickness as well as how much of an effect she’d had on Rachel’s subconscious.

  
“Hey, Eds!” Rachel yelled and finally, Emma was out of her daze. She was nearly choking on air when she finally realized that she needed to breathe. Mike quickly moved the garbage can in front of her and when she stopped coughing, he handed her a bottle of water. She heaved into the garbage can, nearly vomiting, but just spitting up and then taking a sip of water to help.

  
“Thanks, Mike,” she said through a hoarse throat. She tried clearing it, but the damage was done. “Fuck,” she said, though it came out pitifully.

Rachel’s family went to Florida once a year to visit family and stay at the beach for a week or two, as much time as they could get. Emma was always invited first. Why first? Because it was always Rachel and Emma. RachelandEmma. If Emma couldn’t go, Stan would be asked, then Bev. Usually, at that point, one of them could go. When Emma was packing for the trip, she was excited about her rompers and swimsuits she’d gotten from Beverly and the sundress that one of her aunties bought her that didn’t look like it was from an Amish community. When she and Rachel went out on the beach the first day, they sat together under an umbrella and talked for a good minute before Emma laid out in the sun to get a tan. Rachel stayed under the umbrella, a blue bucket hat and swim trunks on looking quite miserable to be out in the heat. “I’m just saying that God could’ve turned on the AC today,” Rachel complained.

  
“I’ll mention it to him next time we talk,” Emma said and mindlessly played with the Virgin Mary necklace she’d worn since she was a kid. She never took it off and she forgot that she had it on sometimes, yet her hands always found a way to fiddle with it when she was doing her bible studies or needing to do something with her hands.

  
“Oh, look there’s a guy selling popsicles!” Rachel jumped out of the chair. She nearly knocked the umbrella over with her rambunctious flailing limbs but managed to steady it before it fell onto Emma. Emma looked to the direction Rachel was running where a guy was dragging around a large floating boat full of coolers and signs with pictures and prices leaning on the front of the coolers at the edge of the water. Rachel reached him after the other ten children did and waited impatiently with her money in her hand to get to the front of the line. Emma stopped watching Rachel because she was starting to feel like a creep, so she laid back down and closed her eyes, soaking in the sun properly.

She jolted up when she felt something freezing cold like ice on her back.

  
“Fuck! Rachel?!” she screeched. She looked up at Rachel who looked scared. Emma grabbed the cold thing off of her back and realized that she was given a rocket pop. “Thank you,” she said sweetly. Rachel seemed eased by the change of her tone, so she sat down and unwrapped the chocolate covered ice cream cone that she’d bought. They sat there in a nice silence, enjoying their cold deserts, then Emma looked back at Rachel and found herself in a trance again. Rachel, always the messy one, had vanilla ice cream dripping down her fingers onto her hands which she mopped up with her tongue when the streak reached her wrist. She felt lucky that she was wearing sunglasses and could pretend she was looking past Rachel, but she was absolutely glued to the scene. When she finished gobbling up the cone, she sucked her fingers into her mouth and made a disgusting smacking noise as she did so as if she was meaning to taunt Emma.

  
“What are you looking at?” Rachel asked, finishing off her thumb. She looked behind her to follow Emma’s gaze.

  
“Uhh, just saw a cute guy,” Emma lied, barely speaking above a squeak.

  
“I bet I could beat him up,” Rachel said almost defensively.

  
“Probably, he was lanky,” Emma said back. She looked back at the ocean reminding herself to act normal. Inside she was tearing herself up trying to examine herself. There was no good reason, no disease or illness, that she could blame for her sudden hyper fixation on her best friend’s hands.

Emma finally realized why she was so enamored by Rachel’s hands. It took a long time for her to realize exactly what it was, but she wanted to slap herself when she came to the conclusion that she had a massive crush on her best friend. Once she realized this, everything that Rachel did started to have an effect on Emma. When she laughed or smiled, Emma made note of whether or not it was real and what had caused it. She studied Rachel’s fingers when she played piano, she noted how often Rachel cut her nails and how frequently she washed her hands. When they spent the night together, which was more frequently than either of their parents knew about, she studied Rachel’s nightly habits and watched her choose out her clothes (mostly from a pile sitting in her desk chair). When Rachel got dressed after a shower, Emma got a peek of Rachel putting on a massive shirt then sliding on a pair of shorts without any underwear. That’s how she got dressed every night, and she had the same habits for the morning time too.

  
One night, Rachel had biked over to Emma’s house and snuck her out of her window so they could come back to Rachel’s and have a good movie night. Rachel was allowed to have a tv in her room and had snacks in the kitchen whereas Emma had neither a tv in her room nor food in her kitchen. As much as Sonia was a health fiend, she never bought food to cook, she bought microwave meals or relied on her sisters to bring over a casserole the two could heat up. Rachel had set a large bucket of popcorn on a comforter on the ground in front of her tv and had an array of candy laid out with each package straightened out and two cans of cold coke sitting next to two bottles of water.

  
“You can’t have both cokes, Rachel. First of all, it is a health risk-” Emma argued to Rachel as quietly as she could since it was nearly eleven at night.

  
“I can do what I want, I bought them!” Rachel interrupted.

  
“You could get cavities and then your teeth will rot out of your head and you’ll have to spend thousands of dollars getting new teeth,” they started to talk over each other, getting louder every time the other had something new to say.

  
“It’s my money I can do what I want. And what if I don’t want teeth, that is a fine way to live.”

  
“And you’ll get diabetes from your soft drinks addiction and I’ll have to help you take your blood sugar because you pass out every time you see blood.”

  
“I do not! I passed out ONCE when I saw a bloody tooth! Sorry, I wasn’t ready to see Bill’s bloody tooth on the cob of corn he was eating, but I feel like that is a valid reason to pass out.”

  
“And then I’ll have to keep up with your dentures because you lose everything!”

  
They kept up, each unrelenting in their stances. However, in just an instant, Rachel went quiet and sat still to listen. Emma kept talking, so she put her hand over Emma’s lips. She waited and listened for the sound she was looking for.

Emma waited as well, but to be released from the paralysis she was experiencing. Rachel looked back at Emma and into her eyes, keeping her hand over her mouth as if she was experiencing the same idleness that Emma was.

Slowly, she took her hand away from Emma’s mouth, her ring finger stalling on Emma’s lip for just a second. Emma couldn’t help but eye the hand that had just left a burning print on her mouth. They sat there in stiff silence for a moment, each listening to the other’s stilled breath. Finally, Rachel leaned in almost as fast as lightning and kissed Emma’s lips. They were soft, plush, and they had a little bit of lip gloss leftover from the long day of reapplying Emma had gone through. She pulled away to see if she had made a mistake. But, when she looked back at Emma, she saw a wide smile aimed at the ground, then lifted to display to Rachel. They both smiled from ear to ear.

  
“I’m gay, by the way,” Emma said with a small giggle.

  
“I’m bi,” Rachel admitted. “But mostly I’m just attracted to you more than anyone else,” she added.

  
“And I, you,” Emma said. She sucked in her bottom lip and bit down on it.

Emma and Rachel never told anyone when they started dating, but those who needed to know just understood that there was a new air between them. They realized quickly that they couldn’t go on dates outside of the house for multiple reasons, the glaring reason being the town’s homophobic nature, but the real reason was that they couldn’t NOT touch each other. Their first official date was to the Aladdin to see 10 Things I Hate About You which was going wonderfully until they sat in some lone seats over the back exits of the movie theater and Rachel shifted slighting in her seat and their knees accidentally bumped. Emma took it as a game and knocked Rachel’s knee with her own. Then, Rachel lifted the arm between their seats and set her hand on Emma’s thigh. It didn’t feel like a game after that.

  
She glanced at Rachel to see if she was looking back at her, but instead her gaze was directed to the screen as if she wasn’t doing anything. Emma looked down at the hand that rested gently over her leg, taking a picture of it mentally and putting it into her files for later, or, as Rachel would say, “Putting it in the spank bank.”

  
Rachel’s fingers were long against Emma’s slim thighs. She’d just started running for track, something her mother hated but Emma was proud of it, so her leg muscles were toned but they weren’t impressive. She’d worn a skirt today, expecting things to take this kind of turn, but not this early on in the day, and the skirt was riding up her thighs just from sitting. Rachel's pale bony hands stood out against Emma’s sun kissed thighs. Her whole hand fit over Emma’s leg and it made her want to scream. It was too much. She thought about how easily Rachel could just grab her and manhandle her. She was starting to hate their date just because she couldn’t take advantage of her cute skirt that had no shorts under them.

  
Just as she was starting to settle down, Rachel moved her hand up to the top of her thigh, her skirt scrunching up against her stomach and falling over Rachel’s wrist. Rachel leaned over and whispered in Emma’s ear, “Remember that there are people around,” she said. Emma peeked around to see if anyone was looking. They were backed into a corner almost, sitting five rows down from the top along the sidewall, so there wasn’t anyone behind them. The only people who were also in the theater were thirty year old women and some older girls from school who sat in the middle of the theater. “You can’t be loud in here, babydoll.”

  
Luckily, the movie got loud at just that moment or the audience would’ve heard Emma let out a breathy moan.

Rachel put her hand under Emma’s skirt and started to rub at the wet spot Emma had made in her underwear. “Good to see you’re on board,” Rachel laughed to herself.

  
Emma quietly swore as Rachel started to press into her. It was over a layer of panties so it was insanely teasing but it made Emma’s legs quiver. Emma was overwhelmed by the voyeurism that she never expected to enjoy, and the picture of Rachel’s hand on her leg so it didn’t take too long to come. As she did, she pressed her face into Rachel’s shoulder to muffle whatever noises might escape her. She started to come down, Rachel replacing her skirt on her leg and putting her hand back where it was on her thigh earlier. Emma sat up and looked around fearfully. “It’s okay baby, no one knows you’re getting fingered in the theater but me.”

Since they didn’t know how to act, they stayed in when they went on dates. Double dates or hangouts were fine, they knew how to behave themselves around their friends, but they loved dates where they got to stay in because they could get the full experience they craved.

  
Emma’s mom was a lot of terrible things, but consistent was one of her best qualities. Since Emma had joined the track team and since Emma had deduced to Sonia that her best chance to get into Derry’s nearest community college was to get in on a sport’s scholarship, she was given all of Sunday to rest even if that meant not going to mass.

Sonia however, was constantly at the church. She would head there every Sunday morning at seven and she wouldn’t leave until after sunset. The whole time she was there, she was either in mass or volunteering in their kitchen to cook for the people in the church who needed warm meals.

  
For Emma, this meant that Sundays were the best days to invite Rachel over. Rachel would show up at eight just to go back to sleep until ten, which Emma enjoyed because she got to hear Rachel’s snores. Then, they would try to watch a movie but get distracted. Then they would eat. It was basically rinse and repeat until Sonia came home in which Rachel would be sneaking out of the back door.

  
Today, though, it was getting close to Rachel’s birthday and Emma wanted to do something nice for once. Before Rachel showed up to her house, she mixed all of the ingredients for a golden cake and the chocolate icing that would cover it. While she was getting her medicine the day before, she’d picked up a tube of white icing from the store so she could try to write on the cake. As Rachel laid down and fell asleep, Emma started to pour the mix into a pan and set it in the oven. A few minutes went by and Emma could smell the cake’s aroma coming from the oven. She sat joyfully on the counter and flipped through a magazine while she waited on it to finish. Emma pulled the cake from the oven and set it in the refrigerator next to the icing. She waited nearly thirty minutes before she poked the cake and felt confident in the chilling process. She dumped the cake out onto a platter and began to ice it. Just as she started to write on the cake, she heard footsteps thump behind her.

  
“What’s that?” Rachel asked, rubbing her eyes then putting her glasses back on. She looked down at the cake and smiled, knowing it was made for her. “Ain’t she the sweetest,” she said in a deep southern accent.

  
“I haven’t tried the frosting yet, but the cake is amazing,” Emma said patting herself on the back. Rachel dipped her finger into the frosting and licked it. She licked the side of her hand that got caught on the edge of the bowl as well.

Emma couldn’t tear her eyes away. Rachel had picked up on it as well, but she knew she would rather tease Emma with it than mention it.  
Rachel scooped up a bit more icing with the same finger and held it out to Emma. “Try it,” Rachel dared. Emma glanced between Rachel’s eyes and the dollop of icing sitting right at the tip of her nose. “Be a good girl and suck it off my finger.”

  
Emma immediately fell into their bedroom dynamic and looked Rachel dead in the eye. She looked up between her long lashes and looked back at the finger. Rachel used her middle finger to push Emma’s chin back up so they were back to being locked in a stare. Emma opened her mouth and took in the finger. She circled it with her tongue and sucked slowly at the tip. She closed her eyes and moaned around the digit, lightly dragging her teeth over the skin.

When she looked up, Rachel’s jaw had loosened from her head, hanging down and leaving her mouth slightly ajar. She let out uneven breaths and tried to hide how hard she was trying to breathe properly.

  
“Fuck,” she whimpered. Then, she remembered where she was and her soul returned to her body. Her face dropped back into the cold and daring gaze she held before, “Wait for me upstairs, be ready when I get there.”

  
And that’s why their dates are spent in a locked house.


End file.
